Book Review: Karen Joy Fowler's We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves

We are All Completely Beside Ourselves is a novel about the Cooke Family. A father, a Mother, a Brother (Lowell), a Sister (Fern) and our protagonist Rosemary. Spoiler alert: Fern is a chimpanzee. I thought at great lengths whether or not to say this fact seeing as the first few chapters hide it from you. However I think you're supposed to know that Fern is a Chimp, I think Fowler anticipates you knowing because you read the back of the book, or you read about the book in the NY Times, or your friend told you. Anyway I think it is part of Fowler's craft, keeping the reader in the dark even though they already know what is coming. That seems to be the structure of the entire narrative. The protagonist Rosemary tells us straight up that she's starting in the middle of the story. From there she takes us on a wild ride; jumping from memory to memory, decoding them, adding details, taking parts out that were made up, pulling some details (even some memories) out of her deep subconscious, all while dealing with the harsh realities these memories have caused for her. I have never been on such a realistic and deeply personal journey with a fictional character before.

And Rosemary's journey is a pretty fantastic one. Fern was a chimpanzee that her father, a prominent psychology professor and scientist, was studying in conjunction to Rosemary herself. That means these two children were both experiments on language, understanding, and psychology. They grew up in a house full of grad students and observations on their games, conversations, and interactions. Obviously man has a lot to learn from chimps, Because they are so closely related to humans a study performed on chimps is a study performed on The Self. Much like Fowler's novel is a study of the self. Each memory that Rosemary recalls is initially foggy, she has repressed a lot. Having a chimp for a sister and the trauma that follows has clearly left her with guilt, emotional damage, self loathing, etc... But mostly it has left her with a lot of questions. We meet Rosemary right at the moment in her life when she wishes to finally face these questions, naturally when she is in college. Her parents are too Midwestern and guilt laden to provide her with the answers and she won't get anything from her missing fanatic brother; so she looks into her self. Fowler's protagonist is so genuine and so real in her guilt that you can't help but become infatuated with her inner journey.

This is because we are so used to totally omniscient narrators and suspense coming from plot points. But Rosemary's journey through her memory is different. For one it is incredibly difficult because she was so young. Each memory has to be carefully reconstructed physically to make sure it is real. For example she has a memory that pops into her head from time to time, of her father purposefully running over a cat, but she knows this cannot be a real memory as she would not be able to see over the dash in her car seat. It was a memory that she fabricated as a young child. And this has obviously been done before, in college we all learned about narrators that couldn't be trusted  and our professors used to think it blew our minds. However Rosemary's "unreliability" isn't tricky, she's trying to bring the audience with her to the truth, not hide the truth. In this way we are watching a character face facts and be honest with themselves, our narrator has to be willing to say "I've repressed that memory because...", which makes you absolutely love her. Because we have these sorts of moments where we are fighting to be honest with ourselves, especially in the context of where and who we are now, being a result of where we came from. The feelings evoked in this journey are so potent, if only because they are invariably true of all people.

And speaking of truth, it seems like Fowler had to have actually had this happen to her (obviously it did't). She writes so vividly, not because every action performed by her character is a deliberate one, wrought with detail, but rather because every single one of her characters messes up, or says something stupid, or that they regret, or they do something stupid or incomplete, arbitrary. As I said before, Fowler's novel is a study of the self and we won't necessary like what we see. It makes us ask if everything we hate about ourselves, if every mistake we ever made, was totally preventable. This is the type of question that makes us hate novelists like Fowler, we want to believe that our past did not create us, but the only way to be free of the mistakes we made in the past is to face them in the present. Fowler's study is to show us a mirror, via a chimp, where we see the very worst of ourselves. The results of the study? When the subject looks in the mirror and sees their self, they are proven to be a more intelligent, rational, and free human being. They lead a much more honest life, if not a happier one.

"The world runs on the fuel of this endless, fathomless misery. People know it, but they don't mind what they don't see. Make them look and they mind, but you're the one they hate, because you're the one that made them look" - Lowell on the seemingly impossible task of stopping animal cruelty. A point that rings so painfully true in my life and the lives of anyone who wishes the best for all creatures.

Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

We've all heard that our identity is not a matter of choice. We don't choose our race, we don't choose our gender, we don't choose our sexual orientation. But in Americanah by Nigerian author Chimamanda Adichie, this claim is wrapped in the poetry of a love story. Which sounds really cheesy; we don't choose our identity like we don't choose our soul mate...sounds stupid. However when Adichie does this, in the way she writes her novel, it is far from stupid, it is just the truth.

The novel's protagonist Ifemelu, is a Nigerian immigrant to America. Though, she is also so much more than that. Ifemelu, is beautiful, she's smart, she's hard working, she has values. Which are things you expect out of every literary character, but in Americanah, attributes like these play a tremendous role in the lives of the characters, more so than other novels. For example Ifemelu, due to her attractiveness, finds a rich white boyfriend in the states who uses his money/power to get her a green card and an eventual path to citizenship. Something she may not have gotten had she not been very pretty, smart, or an immigrant (the white fellow would not have dated an American Black). Privilege in this book comes across as more idiosyncratic, every little aspect of our identity can manifest into privilege (or the opposite), and to Ifemelu, it is impossible to fight, the only way to combat it is to merely notice it.

And reading Americanah it hits you how true that is. How the aspects of our identity, including our privilege, carry us through life. We are simply along for the ride. So what is Ifemelu's response? To write a blog. Ifemelu is a young blogger who starts the prolific race blog; Various Observations About American Blacks by a Non American Black. The novel is peppered with posts from this blog; posts about Barack Obama, about questions one will get as a black woman, a very kick ass post on hair. But they are never argumentative, only observations. Ifemelu is acutely aware that being pragmatic will not change your identity, but demonstrating how ones identity might effect their living conditions, leaves the reader with the irrefutable message of love and understanding. This way no one feels the need to escape their identity, or try to become something else.

Which is all anyone is ever trying to do in this novel. In Nigeria, all of the character's were trying to become European; putting their kid's in European schools, structuring their families the way Europeans do, going to Europe on vacation, moving to Europe.  In America everyone is trying to become rich, many who are black are trying to become white (or less black). Some American's are trying to become non-American (while laughably trying to hold on to the privileges that being American comes with). Everyone is living this single track story of someone other than who they really are. There is a painful lack of honesty. Which is why Ifemelu's blogs (she starts one in both America and Nigeria) are so important. More importantly though, is Obinze.

As I said, the novel is, at its heart, a love story. Obinze is Ifemelu's love in Nigeria, she moves, loses touch, he moves on, she comes back etc...(no spoilers). Though they both have other partners, they both have other lives, we as the reader get the feeling they are not fulfilled with anyone but each other. One is constantly present in the other's life, no matter how hard they try, they cannot choose to stop loving one another. In this way, one is part of the other's identity. The love they share is not something that even the most traumatic of drama can shake. Loving who we are truly meant to love is the most beautifully metaphoric way to tell those struggling with their identity to be who they were meant to be. The language of Aichie's love is so somatic that it cannot be interpreted as love that one decides to walk towards or away from, but the love that one falls into, the way one falls into their body, or their situation, or their sexual preferences.  And if we can love someone else with no choice in the matter, then there is no reason we can't love ourselves and who we are.

Book Review: As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner

Whenever summer hits I always reach for a Faulkner book. Reading about the American South in the sweltering heat of the summer always spurs a deeper sense of empathy for what is going on in the novel. This summer I decided to reread As I Lay Dying. 

The novel chronicles the Bundren family on their journey to bury their newly passed mother in town. Anse, the husband, has promised to bury Addie in the town she was born in and will stop at nothing to do it. He and his family pass trial after trial in Anse’s effort to bury his wife where she promises. This seems very noble, endearing, and could maybe make for a really great read in a summer book club for moms. But the Bundren family is far from perfect; in fact every trial they face, putting themselves and others in danger, is almost directly a result of their stubbornness. Every member of the family “refuses to be beholden to any man”, meaning they will not accept any favors, they will not be in the pocket of anyone. And it is frustratingly selfish considering they have children, they have injured, and it seems they have little to no respect for the dead. The Bundren family is a profoundly selfish family, but their task seems uncharacteristically selfless at the same time. I won’t spoil any endings, but the duality makes for a tantalizing read. 

On top of this, it is incredibly fun. The style is written from the perspective of every member of the family and a few outsiders. Each “chapter” is a different family member’s name and their account of how they experience every scene in the book. This is strikingly biblical, multiple perspectives on the same series of events, each one unique, but each one offering the same narrative. There actually aren't a lot of events at all, but the length of the book is due to multiple perspectives on what is happening. Some of the more interesting perspectives include a 7 year old child, a father in denial of his own seemingly righteous motives, and the deceased herself: Addie Bundren. Because Faulkner can seamlessly transition into a completely unique and new perspective in each character’s voice, this book is great for anyone who loves to read into the psychology of characters. It requires motives to be questioned, sense imagery to be interpreted (is that a cow mooing or someone having sex?), and almost a complete distrust of what anyone is telling themselves. 

The most amazing part to me is how Faulkner, through the use of the aforementioned style, is able to change the perspective of the reader. We begin to question the merits of the Bundren family; whether it’s the whole family or any single member. A completely non spoiler example would be whenever we are inside the head of a Bundren, it seems they are speaking Standard English, but if we are seeing them from an outsider’s perspective; they are speaking with a rural vernacular that connotes a less educated individual. Now we are questioning what the Bundren’s must think of themselves; do they have overblown expectations of how they must sound? Or do they do this unwittingly? Faulkner allows his readers to look disapproving at this protagonist family without being overly didactic or writing in a way that makes people use the word pathos too many times. If you like to analyze the psychology of characters by seeing the world as they see it, you will not find a more fun way to do this than As I Lay Dying and many other Faulkner novels. Prepare for headaches.

Book Review: Consider the Lobster by David Foster Wallace

Maybe you've experienced this: you meet someone who has traveled all over the world, maybe doing philanthropy, maybe doing anthropological digs, maybe "back packing". As you talk to them, you hope they have something to say, you're waiting for them to drop some "truth bomb" on you about the countries they have visited and the things they have seen, but they don't...they just talk about themselves...or maybe they talk without saying anything. And maybe you feel this way secretly when you read a collection of essays by an author you like. If you feel as I do, maybe you'll enjoy Consider the Lobster by David Foster Wallace.

DFW's forte seems to be dropping "truth bombs". He notices things that we, the readers, either don't think about or don't notice. Wallace is witty and acute, he might remark on something small; that the campaign trail coffee he was forced to drink while following John McCain's early political career "tasted like hot water with a brown crayon in it" (Up Simba). Other times he will remark on something big and less tangible; the conundrum of being a tourist for example - how you always wonder how much more beautiful a place would be without all the people there, but you in fact are one of the people there ruining it. This is a catch 22 I had never thought about, but love keeping with me in my back pocket whenever I find myself a frustrated tourist. These are only some of my favorite examples, the book is literally full observations like these.

And I don't think it's that Wallace has a better sense of awareness than other people. No natural affinity for seeing what others can't. In fact if you read DFW enough, maybe even a few times in this collection, he explains how he does it: he puts the work in, and I mean WORK. He'll remark in almost every essay that he is not an expert in whatever he is about to talk about, but then he goes on to discuss the neurological infrastructure of a lobster, the tedious grammar war between prescriptivists and descriptivists being waged in every dictionary ever written, or the inner workings of the two big radio licensing companies BMI and ASCAP. The "work" is Wallace delving into these subjects, subjects that would ordinarily bore us to death, with the concentration of a mad man. He then proceeds to resurface with a truth the likes of which many of us have never seen, and he then communicates it in a coherent and witty way to the rest of the world.

Wallace has both the ability to endure through the insignificant and the ability to then communicate significance in an engaging way, a way that forces us to consider it. Consider the Lobster is a testament to this ability. It's little wonder we might get frustrated with people who have traveled the world and can't speak to it. To me, Wallace really gets to the heart of this, in his essay "How Tracy Austin Broke My Heart". In it, he touches on America's obsession with understanding how an athlete is able to do the amazing things they do, how we want a step by step mental processes of exactly how they did it and how it feels in the moment. Unfortunately according to him, America will never know because the act of not thinking about what you are doing is necessary for doing the sorts of feats that athletes do. In my mind, David Foster Wallace can do just that, but in the literary sense; he can tell you, engage you with, exactly how the totally useless bits of unnoticed information in the world is in fact dictating our lives. Then he asks you to consider the insignificant.

Book Review: On Beauty by Zadie Smith

I had first picked up Zadie Smith's White Teeth in college for a contemporary British Literature class. At the time, I thought the novel was funny so at the time she struck me as a British version of Junot Diaz. After reading On Beauty, I realize that Smith can effortlessly create struggle for her characters in a way that I don't think any other contemporary author could, even Diaz.

The novel focuses on the Belsey Family. Each member of the family faces what might be considered face value issues, but are in fact attached to something far deeper, issues that even the characters themselves sometimes miss. Kiki, a black American nurse by profession heads the family as the matron opposite Howard, a white, British University professor. They have three kids; Jerome, Zora, and Levi. The family is altogether lovable and well written. It is apparent that Smith thinks that the problems of mixed children often disguise themselves in more trivial problems, so much so that they are not altogether recognized on a deeper level. For example, trying to take work off on Christmas day becomes a crushing realization of one's own privilege. In fact the Belsey children are constantly butting heads with their privilege, it becomes a deep source of self loathing for them, but they do not necessarily see this - it comes out in the way they choose to express themselves and what they choose to fight for.

This is all related to the heart of what this novel is about; beauty. The central debate is theory, represented by Howard, Zora and many other hilariously stuffy academic characters, versus Sensuality, represented by the poets Claire, Carl, and many other flirty liberal arts characters. It seems that Smith, however, has a different approach to beauty; just being a real ass person. Here she employs wickedly realistic characters like Kiki, Levi, and Choo - individuals who are outside of academia and seem to live in the real world with the rest of us. Smith travels these three realms effortlessly, showing she is intelligent, artsy, and brutally real. The struggle of living as someone of color with means and an astounding education comes alive in this novel in every character she employs.

This comes to be the only real problem I have with novel and ultimately Smith herself as a novelist. I noticed it first in White Teeth where it is more prevalent, but Smith tends to pull characters out of no where in order to illustrate a point. Granted, they are usually good points, but the characters come too fast and are too perfect. It seems almost Ayn Randish. I'm willing to forgive Smith this, as the main character's she creates are powerful representations of ideas and struggles few could capture, but other's might not be so lenient.

Overall, Smith's novel is great. Every character learns exactly what you would expect them to, but in a way that sticks it to any academic you wish you could stick it to. She crafts unusual circumstances in the realm of the University, but she does so in ways that are so believable you never once stop to think of how impossible it might all be, how perfect. In On Beauty Zadie Smith rips the Liberal out of "Liberal Arts" and delicately places something else, something more real, and more human....something as a recent college grad, I wish I could have done.

Book Review - The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen

The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen follows the Lambert family dynamic as Christmas time fast approaches. This novel is an ideal read if you dread connecting with your family during the holidays...or really any other time. Alfred and Enid are an older Midwestern couple with three adult children: Chip, Denise and Gary. The story is that of a culture clash; 3 individuals trying to escape from their parents and the suffocating Midwest culture they grew up in. Each character has their own way of not just self medicating, but self correcting - working to become less like their parents, as an almost last ditch effort to be happy with themselves.

Enid and Alfred begin this wild symphony of characters. Franzen's portrayal of an older Midwest couple is guaranteed to eerily remind you of a real life couple you know yourself. Enid is incessant in a way that only a Midwestern mother can be; her constant disapproval stemming from the stubborn belief that things should be a certain way and any deviation from this way is wrong. This obsession with being right all the time is the heart of this book, it broaches the idea that we spend so much time correcting ourselves and others, that we don't even bother to enjoy life any longer. Alfred, who formally used his job on the railroad to work himself into a state of constant distraction, is now quite retired and quite sick. Franzen employs these two parents as a rallying point that their children proceed to flee from.

Chip, a New York College professor, largely regards himself as a failure. He fled to New York as an intellectual where he continues to constantly indite the American Culture. As Chip's life seems to crash down around him, he loses track of his sharp critiques in favor of a eat or be eaten survival mode that ends up taking him from New York, to Lithuania and back to good ole' St. Jude in the Midwest. Gary, the most responsible of the three siblings, battles with depression and his creeping subconscious that seems to be forcing him to be more like his father. Despite all his efforts Gary is alarmingly similar to his father, but with every refusal, he dives further into a guilty depressive state. Gary sees things in the most literal sense, a trait reminiscent of his Midwestern parents, which puts him at odds with his own wife and children - something he must continue to fight at all costs. Denise is the youngest of the Lambert's and is by far the most bruised character. In a constant struggle with her sexuality and an almost crippling self consciousness we watch Denise crash through life too afraid to settle for fear of her life being a perpetual wrong move. Her battle is one faced all too many times by young people that her section of the novel alone makes it a must read by all.

The novel culminates at Christmas in St. Jude, where Enid has insisted that she host and that all her children be in attendance. Every character seems to have their own internal language and the settings are so incredibly interesting. As painful as it is to get to know every Lambert, you watch them interact with individuals that are dealing in the face of infinitely worse family lives than them and you begin to wonder if their constant escapism isn't their own worst enemy. I'll let you read it and determine if the character's make any lasting change by the end of the novel, but one thing is for sure; The Corrections forces us to take a hard look at why we believe ourselves to be such fantastic failures at every turn in our lives.

Sick Culture Part I

Both Matthew McConaughey and Jared Leto respectively won an Oscar for their performances in Dallas Buyers club. I have yet to see Dallas Buyers club, but I really want to. Lately I've been reading and seeing a lot of flack for the movie, for Leto's performance and for Matthew McConaughey's acceptance speech. There was this article, this one, and then there was this one. All these articles point to something important; that a trans role should have went to a trans actor, that the movie should have involved trans people in some way, and that the movie's stars should have been more cognizant of what they were representing. And I don't disagree...necessarily....what I disagree with is our need to boycott or otherwise denounce this film because of the problems (no matter how justified) our education has allowed us to see.

I love video games, I always have loved video games, but video games often perpetuate stereotypes. I'm fully aware that video games feature violence towards women, propagates the damsel in distress trope and there isn't a video game (to my knowledge) that doesn't focus on a brilliant and capable female protagonist that isn't overly sexual. The point is that video games can be sexist, for more information, see this video. Now I'm aware some of you may not agree, but stay with me. I am fully aware of these things, but I do not stop playing video games and I certainly do not encourage others to stop playing video games. This is because I believe in thinking critically about mediums of information I thoroughly enjoy (yes video games are mediums of information).

In the case of Dallas buyers club, it is necessary to point out that trans people are underrepresented in film. In fact, whether it is in character or in person trans people, black people, Latino people, gay people, and women are all underrepresented in film. This year in 2013; Dallas Buyers Club, 12 Years a Slave, Blue Jasmine and even Gravity (Latino director) all represented these underrepresented groups, the focus was brought on them. This is one of the many positives of this movie, a fact we can look at and at least acknowledge is, at the very least, a nod in the right direction. It is still important to think critically about this movie though, about the lack of trans people in movies, and why they weren't at least brought on as consultants. But it is not necessary to hate this movie, like it isn't necessary to stop playing Grand Theft Auto because you can kill prostitutes, but it is important to think critically about whether or not that is an appropriate thing to put in a video game. Because with discussion comes education, with education comes change.

This is a fundamental way of thinking for me, it is how I decide to bring about societal change. I understand it may not be what others think of as effective, to others it may not even work. But I believe that if you cut, and poke holes, and deny, and denounce, and boycott, and cherry pick, and cut (again) any medium to the point where it is nothing, then you will be left with nothing. And society does not want nothing, the America we live in does not want nothing. We do not want to be left with no video games or movies that we enjoy, but we may be willing to listen about how they could be different. If you can do this, then over the course of time our mediums will start to change into a more progressive and inclusive standard. This is not new, this is how it works, we have the most progressive mediums that we have ever had in America, we have a long way to go, but when you try to force change in a way people do not listen to...then we don't move. No movement is bad movement.

Thanks for Listening,

Kyle